


a lonesome road to walk

by displayheartcode



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 10:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displayheartcode/pseuds/displayheartcode
Summary: Carl couldn't remember waking up.





	a lonesome road to walk

**Author's Note:**

> angst? angst.
> 
> anonymous asked: things you said when you thought i was asleep and things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear.

Carl couldn’t remember waking up, but the other side of the bed had been cold. Neither the dogs nor his partner was there to help him sleep with their snores, not hearing the murmur of words whenever Tom had a vivid dream. Those were his lullaby since they had moved in together.

But now it was so quiet.

_Tom's on another deadline,_ reasoned Carl. He was used to the strange habits of living with a full-time writer, but the house was too quiet, too small... He reached the top of the stairs. He paused, hearing something in the kitchen. For a moment, it was like Carl was a child and listening in on his parents having a serious conversation, the kind all parents had late at night. (He couldn't even remember what those had been about--skipping classes? Was that it? Why couldn't he remember?)

"I know, I know," Tom was telling someone. "I miss him too."

There was a whine. _Annie?_

Carl made his steps quiet and small, feeling as though he was trespassing.

"A cardinal event is something we're going to have to deal with. Not like any of us have a choice." His voice gained a bitter edge. There was the sudden memory of a much younger Tom, one of him bent over a book and making sharp gestures in the air. Carl clenched the barrister. The memory was gone before he could recall anything else, and a sharp pain blossomed beneath his breastbone.

Carl took another step. At the landing, he could make out Tom silhouetted by the kitchen light. Habit and history meant his partner was holding a cup of hot chocolate, two marshmallows, maybe three depending on his mood.

"Well, what do you think?" Tom told their dog. "Do I seem any different?" He laughed darkly as he set his cup down on the island table. "Hell, I can't even tell what was real or just a dream. Do you think Carl felt like this?" Annie whined again and Tom began to pace with the nervous energy of their college years. "We just have to believe in the children before any of this...before..." And he dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shaking.

Carl paused at the threshold of their kitchen. This wasn't Tom on a writing deadline. This wasn't his partner he had made vows to, not the college roommate who had caught him using an illegal hotplate. This grieving man was a funhouse image, all strange and unfamiliar in his pain.

_Trust the children with what?_ he wanted to ask. Carl raised a hand to his heart. _What had happened to me?_ The thought sent a spiraling echo of Tom's grief. He turned the words over again and tried to search for their meaning, but there was a sense of such profound loss, and all Carl could think of was his heart breaking at the image of a hardback book, Tom leaning by his side, a night sky full of stars and twisting galaxies, crystal towers shimmering like a dream, and words whispering around them... _what about me?_

"Tom, what's going on?” he asked at last.


End file.
